


The Joy of Meeting Again

by LittleAprilFlowers



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Choose Your Own Adventure, F/F, F/M, divergence where necessary, mostly following canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-18 14:07:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14214819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleAprilFlowers/pseuds/LittleAprilFlowers
Summary: Following the plot (mostly) of Syndicate, this story follows the adventures of the Frye twins featuring you! Will you romance the brash and charismatic Jacob, or the inquisitive and nimble Evie?A little thing I started for myself but figured I ought to share with the world. Each chapter will be titled accordingly to aid you in navigating the fic in your desired course. Some chapters will be plot, some fluff, some following side quests, and some smut - not the chimney kind either, despite this being set in Victorian London. You know what I'm talking about.Title inspired by a Dickens quote about love, and there will probably be a few more littered through this fic. Enjoy!





	1. Arrival

London. Many see it as the beating heart of the world, of an empire where the sun never sets and the Templars never rested. Their takeover of the great city had been slow and subtle using tactics more common among the Brotherhood than what might have been expected. By the time anyone came to realise what was happening, the Assassins of London had either fallen to Templar blades or fled the smoggy streets for a safer setting. Only a handful of your kind remain, your network maintained by the Indian assassin and curio collector Henry Green.

But that would all change in the year 1868, the year that the Frye twins arrived.

The weather is fine, the relentless rain of the last few months having thankfully dispersed. Henry walks alongside you through the busy streets of Whitechapel on one of your usual patrols and jokes that perhaps it is a sign. You laugh, but the foolish ache of hope in your chest wills it to be so. Antagonising Crawford Starrick and his Templar kin had cost what remained of the Brotherhood here greatly; those left in London could be counted on two hands.

‘Do you hear that?’ Henry asks suddenly, placing a hand on your shoulder. You notice the commotion just as he indicates it. A large crowd has gathered at the mouth of an alley, and the shouts and jeers suggest a fight. You catch a flashing glimpse of a red uniform, and initiating your eagle vision confirms what you had already realised – Blighters. Never a good sign.

‘Should we get involved?’ you ask, turning to the more senior Assassin.

Henry shakes his head and lifts his hood. ‘We’ll watch for now, find out more. Better than rushing in headfirst.’

You might have argued when you were still fresh in your training, but by now you had seen too much, and lost too many to hasty conflict. So you nod and follow Henry without another word, seamlessly blending into the mass of spectators despite your unusual clothes.

The violence seems to end as soon as it had begun. One man stands victorious over the unmoving Blighters, breathless but grinning from ear to ear. You catch a flash of that smile as he turns to gauge the audience’s reaction. Those who had watched seem surprised by his victory and that earns him a short burst of applause. The man laughs, spreads his arms, and bows theatrically before you hear a female voice call out in a scolding tone from the rooftops.

‘Now is not the time for tourism, Jacob. Now’s the time to find Henry Green.’ she says, and you follow the sound of the voice to its source – a woman not entirely dissimilar in age and build to yourself, with an uncanny resemblance to the man below. She smiles as the man lifts his face to her. ‘I’ve always been the quicker climber, haven’t I?’

‘Not since we were two.’ He retorts.

‘Race you to the highest vantage point!’ she responds, her challenge accompanied by the sound of hurried footsteps across roof tiles.

‘We’d best follow them.’ Henry instructs, lowering his hood and scanning the nearby buildings for a fast and discrete path to ascend onto the roofs, ‘Stay close and quiet.’

You do as he bids of you. Two black-clad figures sprint across the buildings of Whitechapel, racing to a nearby factory. They almost outpace both you and Mr Green. Almost. You hear them talking to one another as you and your master silently scale over the lip of the factory’s roof to join the pair.

‘Two Assassins.’ Henry announces casually, the people in question whirling on their feet to face him and you, clearly not expecting the company up here, ‘Equal in height. One female, one male. Two decades old, and those devilish smiles. You must be the Frye twins.’

‘And you are?’ the woman asks, cautiously advancing on you both.

‘Henry Green, and (Y/N), at your service. I was sorry to learn about your father’s passing.’

‘Thank you.’ she replies with a genuine grateful smile, and it is now that you notice the intensity in her blue eyes and in that of her brother’s hazel brown ones. You admire the freckles on her cheeks, and how the sun illuminating her from behind reveals all the disrobed strands of hair from her tight practical braids.

Now her brother steps forward, his fists clenched and his broad shoulders squared, still on edge even though you have identified yourselves. ‘What can you tell us about Crawford Starrick?’

‘I suppose the Council desires news?’

The twins share a look, and the sister speaks again. ‘London must be freed. To provide a better future for all of its citizens.’

You and Henry share a look. Good news after all. Both of you had long suspected that any arrival of an Assassin in London now would only bear orders to abandon the city. But to have it confirmed that the Order had not forgotten you, that you would have aid at last? It was a weight lifted from your shoulders.

‘Well, thank goodness the Council saw reason and sent you to aid us.’

‘We’re practically all that’s left of the Order in London.’ You add, ‘Help could not have come soon enough.’

‘Yes, thank goodness.’ The man echoes, and his glance down at his sister who stands on a slope from him restores the unease you had felt earlier. Why this sudden hesitance?

***

After an exhilarating leap from the factory stack, the journey from the hay bale to Henry Green’s curio shop had already proven what kind of mischief came about when you associated with Jacob and Evie Frye. In less than an hour the four of you encountered none other than the famous author Charles Dickens, were spotted and chased by Blighters, and proceeded to steal a carriage to outrun the thugs and find safety in Green’s humble establishment.

Henry had split from the group first, followed by you, leaving Jacob and Evie to lose your pursuers before reuniting at the shop. You had arrived first and waited for your master to arrive. Having already made yourself comfortable in an armchair by the fire, you watched as Henry retrieved papers and posters detailing the allies and foes that your new companions would find in the city before the twins themselves finally reappeared.

After their briefing, Jacob and Evie depart from the shop with promises to return with frequent updates on their progress. You wonder for the first time in weeks – perhaps it might even be months – if this was possible, if you might actually take London back from Starrick and the Templars.

‘So, what do you think?’ Henry asks, joining you by the fire with tea and biscuits. He pours as you offer your opinions and pick at the selection of sweet treats.

‘I think we might have a chance.’ You admit, and smile at your fellow Assassin, ‘And I think that the Rooks is a splendid name for a gang.’

Henry laughs. ‘Jacob is certainly optimistic! That’s what we need. And Evie is right – all precursor artefacts we can find will aid us, especially if discovering them means liberating them from our enemy’s hands.’

‘You know I’ll help them however and whenever I can. Just say the word and point me to them.’

‘I do not doubt that, (Y/N).’ Henry says, extending a hand to pat your arm.


	2. Gang War for Whitechapel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to take back Whitechapel. Your first choice lies in this chapter, and for the story to make sense I would suggest you stick to Jacob or Evie consistently in the story. Enjoy!

If you had a hat to take off to them in place of your hood, it would be proffered to Evie and Jacob Frye without a moment’s hesitation after the exceptional progress of the last few weeks. Blighter activity on the streets of Whitechapel had fallen to an all-time low, workhouses had been ‘relieved’ of their unfortunate youthful workers, and the growing numbers of green and yellow clad Rooks left a reassuring sense of protection in the hearts and minds of the borough’s citizens. Apparently your initial optimism had been well placed.

Such disruption to the Templar vice grip on the city was not going unnoticed. The brute in charge of Whitechapel had been a permanent blot on the Assassin monitoring of London for a long time; Rexford Kaylock, a sadistic bastard who paraded the city on his personal commandeered train without care nor threat of deposition.

Today ought to change that.

Heavy rain cascades off the eagle point of your cloak’s hood. Jeers and hollers from the assembled crowd of citizens are aimed equally at the green Rooks and the red Blighters positioned at either end of the railyard. You are flanked by the Frye siblings, Jacob on your left sporting a fetching top hat and Evie on your right, her uncovered hair soaked by the downpour.

An unspoken signal suddenly has both mobs surging forward, and you are surrounded by fighting within seconds. Jacob tears a valley through the sea of red, his knuckle dusters breaking bone and drawing blood like scissors through wet paper, and his hidden blade rips the throats of his opponents just as easily. Evie twirls and jabs effortlessly with her cane sword, her cloak arcing out, her attacks assisted by swift kicks and her hidden blade. Blighters and Rooks alike fall around you, but much like the case with your Assassin companions, barely any of Starrick’s thugs even touch you. And those who do find themselves unable to breathe long enough to brag about it. You note that Evie and Jacob also use the kukris gifted to them by Henry Green before the fight; almost identical to the traditional blades you also carry. The knives glitter in the rain and almost seem to sing when soaked in the crimson blood of the Blighters.

A taunting whistle rings over the cacophonous fighting. Rexford himself stands atop the carriage of his train and beckons for a challenge. Managing to tear yourselves away from the gangs still locked in spite-fuelled combat, you and the Frye twins dash towards the rear carriage just as it begins to gain pace pulling out of Whitechapel station.

‘I’ve got him!’ Evie yells, reaching the carriage first, hoisting herself aboard and stopping on the edge of the platform to face you and Jacob as you sprint behind, ‘You go back, and keep fighting with the Rooks.’

‘No way!’ Jacob shouts back, his voice affected by his heavy panting to keep up with the increasingly fast train, ‘I’ve lost… too many of my people to his thugs already. This… ends now!’

‘Or you stop bickering, and I’ll go after him!’ you chime in, managing to just gain the lead over Jacob. You vault onto the rear carriage and land almost gracefully beside Evie. Jacob lets out a groan of frustration and exertion as Evie rolls her eyes and climbs onto the roof of the carriage. You hear the warning shouts of the Blighters aboard the train, those inevitably placed to warn their boss and fight for him should this have happened. By your estimation, there could still be enough time to help Jacob onto the train – it doesn’t seem like he’s going to make it on his own – or you could ascend with Evie and help her fight off the Blighters as a pair.

_If you choose to help Jacob catch up and leave Evie to fend for herself for a moment, go to Chapter 3 – A Brutal End. Alternatively, if you wish to abandon Jacob’s futile efforts to catch up and assist Evie immediately, go to Chapter 4 – A Swift End._


	3. A Brutal End (Jacob)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You chose Jacob!

With a resigned sigh, you lean down and find purchase on the carriage railing before extending an arm to Jacob, reaching as far out as you can. Your fingertips brush and then he surges forward, pulling himself on as you haul him towards you. Jacob is a little heavier than you were prepared for, however, and he slams your body against the back wall of the carriage, both of you grunting in pain at the collision.

‘Sorry.’ Jacob says, then gives you a cheeky smile, ‘I’ll at least buy you a drink first next time, eh?’

He’s clambering up after Evie before you can respond, and you follow suit, squinting through the harsh rain as the Frye sister tangles with a handful of Blighters alone. As she slashes the throat of one and thrusts her elbow into the face of another, forcing him off the train roof, she catches sight of you and Jacob.

‘Little help over here?’

‘Anything for you, dear sister!’ Jacob calls back almost cheerfully. You’d learned early on in your acquaintance that he thrived on danger and anarchy. Here amid a life-threatening brawl, he was in his element. You hadn’t seen such enthusiasm in the Assassins and their cause since perhaps even your own initiation.

It seems Evie’s own dedication to the cause was just as strong however. What Jacob brought to the fray in sheer strength and brute force, Evie matched with grace and speed. With fewer enemies to worry about atop the train, and the Frye twins engaged with the Blighters, that left Rexford Kaylock for you to deal with. And it seemed he realises this at the same moment you do, as the Templar brute draws a wicked sharp butcher’s cleaver and charges you with a hateful yell.

You clash amid the junction of two carriages, and despite his size advantage over you, Rexford himself slips on the edge of the roof and stumbles back. This gives you a sufficient window to leap forth and slash at his chest with your kukri as you steady your footing, just stepping out of the way of his aggressive swings with seconds to spare, the cleaver whistling past your head and your body several times. Rexford bleeds heavily from the wounds you have inflicted but he remains determined.

‘Time to die, little bird.’ He says, eyes black with fury and pain. Suddenly he lunges, knocking you to the roof and pinning you to the slippery surface with his entire body weight atop of you. His legs trap your arms and you cannot break free no matter how fiercely you squirm, and you watch helpless as your prized kukri blade slides off the rain-slicked carriage roof out of sight.

Rexford lifts the butcher’s knife above his head and grins, preparing to make true of his words. But he just begins to swing down, the glittering metal reflecting your own terrified eyes back at you, when a booted foot cracks into the side of his skull and sends him sprawling. It is a moment too late to find any purchase on the roof and he tumbles from it screaming – you had not noticed being inches from death that the train was passing over a bridge, and Rexford lands on his spine against the edge of a tug boat’s cabin with a loud and final _clang_.

A hand extends to you, fingers protruding from black wool, the grime and claret under the nails stark against pale and scarred skin. Jacob’s smile is teasing, but he seems equal parts smug and relieved that he reached you before you came to any further harm.

‘Do you require assistance, Miss (Y/L/N)?’

You begrudgingly take his offer and Jacob easily hauls you to your feet. Shaken but quickly recovering from it after Rexford’s messy defeat, the irritation at your clumsiness and the loss of your weapons sinks in. That disappointment is swiftly curtailed as Evie joins you both with a heavy pistol in her hand, the pronged claw of a grappling hook protruding from the barrel.

‘It appears to be broken.’ She observes, her own disappointment apparent though you remain intrigued. This tool could certainly be useful now it was in Assassin hands.

Jacob takes the unusual projectile weapon from his sister and observes it with half-hearted interest before holstering it on his belt. ‘Oh well, at least we have a train now. It’s not all bad.’


	4. A Swift End (Evie)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You chose Evie!

You allow yourself to smile at Jacob as you wave and then turn and climb the train carriage after Evie, his cry of indignation bringing a trill of laughter to your lips. Outraced and outfoxed by two women. You hope some of the Rooks saw it; he might never live it down.

Evie charges ahead, her cane sword already drawn as the Blighters advance on you both. You take up stance back-to-back, at the very centre of a carriage roof, dodging the shots of gunned thugs until either of you have a chance to down them with your admittedly limited supply of throwing knives amid facing off against more immediate opponents.

‘I see you’ve started without me!’ Jacob yells as he appears at last over the lip of the final carriage, a few yards away from you and Evie.

‘Have any fight left in you, dear brother?’ Evie jeers, swiping at a Blighter who attempts – and fails – to use the Assassin’s diverted attention to her advantage. Instead the woman is sent screaming from the train with a swift shove of Evie’s boot in her chest, just as Jacob races over and joins the fray. Here amid a life-threatening brawl, he was in his element. You hadn’t seen such enthusiasm in the Assassins and their cause since perhaps even your own initiation.

It seems Evie’s own dedication to the cause was just as strong however. What Jacob brought to the fray in sheer strength and brute force, Evie matched with grace and speed. With fewer enemies to worry about atop the train, and the Frye twins engaged with the Blighters, that left Rexford Kaylock for you to deal with. And it seemed he realises this at the same moment you do, as the Templar brute draws a wicked sharp butcher’s cleaver and charges you with a hateful yell.

You clash amid the junction of two carriages, and despite his size advantage over you, Rexford himself slips on the edge of the roof and stumbles back. This gives you a sufficient window to leap forth and slash at his chest with your kukri as you steady your footing, just stepping out of the way of his aggressive swings with seconds to spare, the cleaver whistling past your head and your body several times. Rexford bleeds heavily from the wounds you have inflicted but he remains determined.

‘Time to die, little bird.’ He says, eyes black with fury and pain. Suddenly he lunges, knocking you to the roof and pinning you to the slippery surface with his entire body weight atop of you. His legs trap your arms and you cannot break free no matter how fiercely you squirm, and you watch helpless as your prized kukri blade slides off the rain-slicked carriage roof out of sight.

Rexford lifts the butcher’s knife above his head and grins, preparing to make true of his words. But he just begins to swing down, the glittering metal reflecting your own terrified eyes back at you, when a booted foot cracks into the side of his skull and sends him sprawling. Before he has time to react Evie is upon him like a bird of prey descending on a mouse. She sinks her hidden blade into the side of his skull with a wet _schlik_ before hastily withdrawing it and kicking his lifeless body from the train. It falls soundlessly through the London fog before landing with a splash in the murky Thames below - you had not noticed being inches from death that the train was passing over a bridge.

A hand extends to you, slim fingers extended in a kind gesture despite the soaking of blood on the leather gloves which conceal them. Evie smiles warmly, and she seems relieved to have reached you in time.

‘Need a hand, Miss (Y/L/N)?’

You take her offer with an equally warm smile, bright with grateful energy, and Evie hauls you to your feet. Shaken but quickly recovering from it after Rexford’s messy defeat, the irritation at your clumsiness and the loss of your weapons sinks in. That disappointment is swiftly curtailed as Evie stoops down to retrieve a heavy pistol dropped by Rexford as the two of you had fought, the pronged claw of a grappling hook protruding from the barrel.

‘It appears to be broken.’ She observes, her own disappointment apparent though you remain intrigued. This tool could certainly be useful now it was in Assassin hands.

Jacob takes the unusual projectile weapon from his sister and observes it with half-hearted interest before holstering it on his belt. ‘Oh well, at least we have a train now. It’s not all bad.’


	5. A Moment of Privacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry Green has sent you to meet Jacob and Evie at the station, on what he claims is urgent Assassin business.

If someone had approached you before the arrival of the Frye family in London and asked to join the Brotherhood, you have warned them to hightail to the continent as fast as their legs could carry them, perhaps once you had finished laughing. But now, as your master Henry Green often proclaims with as much pleasant surprise in his voice as you still feel in your heart, for the first time in a long while there was hope for the Assassins in this city.

Flashes of green-coated comrades bring a smile to your face as you pass through the crowds occupying the station platform. Rooks from all walks of life cover your path and there is not one crimson-clad Blighter to be seen. The relief from the absence of these brutes is not just a burden lifted from your shoulders here in Whitechapel – playing children laugh as they dart between the legs of passengers, young men and women kiss and sit close to one another in the lamplight, and flower girls dare to raise their voices in song now and again.

The hiss of the Frye’s liberated train pulls you back from your immersion in the joys found on this optimistic evening, its chimney and proud frame illuminated by the backlit glow of a full moon through the station’s glass roof; a sight often obscured by the thick industrial smog which hung over London like a thick muffling blanket. And on the edge of the platform, beside the train, are the twins themselves. Both twins have certainly made the most of the expansive Assassin armoury here at their disposal – Evie is examining a kukri blade while Jacob enthuses about voltaic grenades from your associate Mr Bell.

‘Honestly, Evie, it was bloody brilliant. They crackled as they went down like nothing I’ve ever seen in my life.’ Jacob enthuses to his sister, who is mostly preoccupied with checking her newest knives for flaws. With a pang of guilt in your heart – remembering the gift from Henry which you had lost in the battle with Kaylock – you know she will find no issues with it.

You approach almost silently to the point where even the two seasoned Assassins do not notice you over the din of the busy station until Evie happens to look up from her kukri and smile in welcome. ‘Hello there, (Y/N). You got our message, then.’

Nodding, you cross the final short distance between you and them. ‘Henry sent me at once.’

‘Figured you’d want to see the city from your own personal spot.’ Jacob says, his hands on his hips for prideful emphasis, ‘Our first official lap of London on our own steam locomotive. Are you in?’

‘Henry said it was—’

‘Greenie said whatever he thought it best to say, to convince you to come along, as per our instructions.’ Jacob cuts you off, grinning widely and then slapping you on the shoulder. ‘Come on then! Time’s wasting.’

He jumps aboard without another word from you or Evie, but she rolls her eyes and offers you a patient smile. ‘He’s a stubborn git, but you’ll get used to him. Eventually. And he’s right – it does feel like you’ve been avoiding us. Is it because of what happened?’

She extends a hand and rests it on your arm. ‘Are you… alright?’

Her concern might irk you, but Evie does have a point. You take a good look at the train and can see how the shining white roof of one nearby carriage is still stained in a faint pink, not instantly obvious to anyone but those like you with heightened observance. It marks the spot where you almost lost your balance and your life, and where you were brought back from the brink despite your mistakes. Do you feel like a failure? Or is that dreadful feeling yanking at your heart the guilt of being rescued, an embarrassment and a flaw in front of your newest and most promising allies?

_If you don’t want to talk about it and would rather distract yourself inside the train with Jacob, go to Chapter 6 – Whiskey. Alternatively, if you want to sit somewhere quiet with Evie and talk about what happened, go to Chapter 7 – Wine._


End file.
